(no subject)
My attention for this online journal is lacking. I have so much to say; I'm sure this post will go on for days.
A friend of mine just shared a parable with me:
"A young indian boy is told a story by his father that goes as follows. There are to wolves inside each of us, a white wolf and a black wolf. They fight a ferocious battle for your soul. So the young boy asks his father, 'Which wolf will win this fight?' And he says to his son 'Whichever one you feed.'"
Stating that our heart, our soul, the place where our desires are born, have two sides. It is our own decision as to which side shines brighter. We do all realize, I'm sure, that we would never purposely feed the 'black wolf' as we know it brings sorrow. So why is it that at times the black wolf seems to be clawing at our insides? When we try feeding our 'white wolf' it seems to devour our hand because we feed it too quickly.
Such a delicate state our bodies are always in. Care too much, or care too little. No one is perfect and our "wolves" will surely never be at peace.
A friend of mine just shared a parable with me:
"A young indian boy is told a story by his father that goes as follows. There are to wolves inside each of us, a white wolf and a black wolf. They fight a ferocious battle for your soul. So the young boy asks his father, 'Which wolf will win this fight?' And he says to his son 'Whichever one you feed.'"
Stating that our heart, our soul, the place where our desires are born, have two sides. It is our own decision as to which side shines brighter. We do all realize, I'm sure, that we would never purposely feed the 'black wolf' as we know it brings sorrow. So why is it that at times the black wolf seems to be clawing at our insides? When we try feeding our 'white wolf' it seems to devour our hand because we feed it too quickly.
Such a delicate state our bodies are always in. Care too much, or care too little. No one is perfect and our "wolves" will surely never be at peace.